Seating Chart
by Light-Ace
Summary: For Day 2 of Faberry Week: Kid!Faberry. Who would have expected such good things to come from stabbing Noah Puckerman with a pencil?


Transferring schools in third grade was horrible. Everyone wouldn't stop staring, and it was hard to make friends when everyone had already settled into their groups that would last until high school.

The fact that Quinn was more interested in reading than making friends probably wasn't helping any either. You could go anywhere and do anything in books without having to actually interact with people. It was perfect.

Except that in third grade, teachers are insistent that the kids actually talk to each other to develop social skills or whatever, but by third grade, kids already really didn't like listening to adults, which meant Quinn was asked why she wasn't talking to the other kids.

One week into third grade, Quinn came to the conclusion that school was stupid. As were people. (More than once she'd felt the urge to smack herself in the head with a textbook because _really_, reading was _not_ that difficult and _really_, you don't know _that_ word? She read ahead and then doodled on the desk, which she got in trouble for doing for whatever stupid reason.)

Her parents just couldn't understand why she didn't enjoy school or people or playtime, but they weren't exactly trying to. Frannie, though, she understood. It wasn't unusual for Quinn to come home to a new book in her room that Frannie had checked out for her from the middle school library – because her own school's library mostly consisted of books with the contents of 'The dog ran.' and the like.

So while her parents asked what she'd learned at school and how many friends she'd made, Frannie talked to her about what she'd been reading recently. Quinn took to scarfing down dinner so she could return to her room and wherever she'd left off in her newest book – because books were better than people and didn't expect anything of you.

Things were boring, until the teacher rearranged the seating chart because Quinn had stabbed Noah Puckerman in the arm with her pencil because he wouldn't shut up. So Noah was moved to the front of the room, and Quinn's new desk neighbor was Rachel Berry.

There were several similarities between Noah and Rachel, but there was one key difference: Rachel was nice to everyone, even if they didn't deserve it, and therefore she didn't make Quinn feel like she was going to have to stash a dead body under the playground slide in the near future.

Surprisingly though, Rachel was rather quiet around her, which was odd considering she usually never shut up. Quinn never had an actual conversation with her until the day she was sitting off in the corner of the playground reading where she wouldn't be disturbed, or at least she thought she wouldn't.

"What are you reading?"

Quinn looked up in surprise to see Rachel standing there with her hands fidgeting in front of her and a shy expression on her face. She didn't meet Quinn's eyes as she glanced at the cover of the book.

"Oh, you like animals?" Rachel plopped down beside Quinn on the grass; Quinn looked at her out of the corner of her eye, thoroughly confused. "What's your favorite?" Rachel continued as if Quinn had actually answered her first question.

She looked at her expectantly while Quinn just stared back blankly. "Um, lions?" she said reluctantly, though it wound up sounding more like a question.

Rachel beamed. "Ooh, lions are cool, but I really like polar bears. They're a lot cooler than any other bear – that was completely accidental. You know, polar bears live in the arctic, they're cool." She smiled slightly and gave a weak laugh.

The brittle laughter faded quickly, and Rachel shifted uneasily on the grass. Quinn stared down at her book, not taking in a word as her brain was trying to process the situation she was in.

After a minute of nothing, Rachel sighed and dropped her head on Quinn's shoulder, who stiffened at the contact. "You don't talk much," she said, sounding disgruntled.

"No reason to," Quinn mumbled, fiddling with the corner of a page.

Rachel frowned. "You can talk to me," she said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Quinn craned her neck to look at her, and she beamed back.

"Okay," Quinn said quietly, and Rachel let out a squeal and wrapped her in a hug. Hesitantly since she wasn't used to being touched, Quinn hugged her back; Rachel didn't seem to notice her reluctance and buried her face in Quinn's shoulder.

/

It turned out that when she'd agreed to talk more to Rachel, she'd also given Rachel permission to talk as much as she wanted. Whereas the week before, she'd barely said a word, now Rachel couldn't _stop_ talking.

She felt bad for feeling relief when she came in one day to find Rachel absent that day. Rachel was nice and actually wanted to be her friend, but sometimes she just wanted some quiet and Rachel had a tendency to not allow her that.

By lunch though, she was bored. She'd gotten used to having someone to talk to, and she hadn't said anything all day today.

When someone's lunch tray dropped onto the table beside her, she almost fell off of the bench in her surprise. She looked up, wide-eyed, as Brittany Pierce sat next to her with a blinding grin on her face; on her other side, Santana Lopez dropped onto the bench with a scowl.

Quinn glanced between them, confused and more than a little wary. While Brittany had never been anything but nice, Santana hadn't been nice to anybody that wasn't Brittany.

"Relax, Bookworm," Santana sneered down the table at her. "We're not gonna hurt you."

Unconvinced, Quinn narrowed her eyes at them. Santana rolled her eyes and took the milk Brittany was holding out to her and opening it; Quinn watched, intrigued, as Santana handed the small carton back to Brittany with a small smile and received a kiss on the cheek. She looked away when Santana sent a threatening glare her way.

"I want to be your friend," Brittany said suddenly, taking a drink of her milk. Quinn stared, her jaw agape; Santana rolled her eyes again and twisted the cap off of her bottled water. "I would have talked to you sooner, but San wouldn't let me while Rachel was here. So, since she's not here today, I can talk to you!"

Brittany beamed at her, and Quinn had a feeling that Santana wasn't too happy with things if the way she was stabbing the macaroni on her lunch tray was any indication.

"But Rachel will be back tomorrow," Quinn said as Santana began to work out how to flick her mashed potatoes at the back of Finn Hudson's head.

A frown briefly appeared on Brittany's face before it vanished again and she shrugged. "Oh well. Santana can go somewhere else then."

Santana's head whipped around, and her mashed potatoes flew over Finn's head and landed instead on Noah's face. The entire table burst into loud laughter. "Fine," Santana huffed, ignoring the yells. "I guess I can just ignore Rachel."

Was it even possible to ignore Rachel? Quinn frowned, curious.

Brittany's smile widened, and she grabbed Santana in a tight hug before turning and doing the same to Quinn. Santana sighed and dropped her chin into her palm, but she did offer Quinn a miniscule smile.

/

When Rachel returned to school the next day, it was to find that the two desks in front of them had been commandeered by Santana and Brittany. The two kids whose desks had been stolen had complained to the teacher, but they'd just been waved off. Santana had smirked evilly at them as they slunk to their new seats.

"You made new friends?" Rachel asked in a small voice as she slid into her desk.

Quinn beamed at her and nodded, then frowned slightly. "Well, Brittany is. I don't know about Santana though."

Where she was sat in front of her with her head resting on her crossed arms, Santana snorted. "I'm here because Britts wants to be here. It's nothing to do with you, Booky."

Rachel looked taken aback at Santana's words, but Quinn just smiled and shook her head to show that Santana didn't really mean what she said. Brittany turned in her seat to smile at Rachel.

"Don't mind her. She's really a big softy, but she refuses to let anyone see her when she's acting fluffy." Santana mumbled something under her breath, and Brittany kicked her in the leg, still smiling at Rachel who looked utterly bewildered at the two's interactions.

"They're weird," Rachel remarked under her breath, and Quinn bit back on her grin.

/

Over the next few weeks, Quinn came to understand why exactly Santana seemed to have trouble denying Brittany anything. Saying no to her was the equivalent of kicking a puppy, and even Santana wasn't heartless enough to kick a puppy – in fact, she seemed to have become the puppy's protector.

However, as Quinn became better friends with Santana and Brittany, Rachel seemed to withdraw further and further into herself. Quinn didn't really know why Rachel didn't seem to like the other two that much, but Rachel had been there first, so she felt a sort of obligation to ask why.

So one afternoon when they were waiting for their parents to pick them up and Santana and Brittany had already left, Quinn asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

Rachel turned to her, eyes wide. "Why do you say that?"

There was a sort of heartbroken look on her face that Quinn couldn't stand to look at, so she stared at the floor instead. "Ever since I became friends with Brittany, we haven't really talked that much." She twisted her fingers together. "I miss it."

Arms wrapped around her, and it was a testament to how far she'd come that she immediately hugged Rachel back. "I'm sorry," Rachel said, burying her head in the crook of Quinn's neck. "I guess I just miss having you all to myself, like Brittany and Santana are going to take you away from me or something."

Quinn sighed and squeezed her tightly. "You'll always have me, I promise," she whispered in Rachel's ear.

/

When she finally saw Rachel's face in the crowd, Quinn couldn't help the grin that appeared on her face. When Rachel saw her, she smiled back and all but skipped over to where Quinn was leaning against her locker.

"Morning!" Rachel chirped, slinging her arms around Quinn in a hug; Quinn melted into the embrace. "How was Cheerios practice?"

"Coach is a slave driver, but what else is new?" Quinn pulled back and smirked down at Rachel. "I'd like my good morning kiss now, if you don't mind," she said slyly.

Rachel rolled her eyes and giggled before wrapping her arms around Quinn's neck and pulling her down into a kiss. A warm feeling unfurled in the pit of Quinn's stomach, and she set her hands on Rachel's hips and melded their bodies together.

"Get a room, you two!"

They broke apart, and Quinn laughingly flipped Santana off as she passed, hand tucked in Brittany's, who beamed and waved as Quinn slipped an arm around her girlfriend's waist and pulled her into her side.

"I hate those two sometimes," Quinn sighed, letting her head fall against the top of Rachel's.

Rachel hummed and tilted her head back to pull her into another kiss, interruptions be damned.

* * *

_Quinn in this is largely based off myself when I was younger, so she's probably the only kid that has somewhat believable characterization because if there's one thing I can't write (besides smut), it's children._


End file.
